


Badge

by Gray Shadows (the_afterlight)



Category: Once Upon a Time (2011)
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_afterlight/pseuds/Gray%20Shadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sheriff Graham and I were not what one would call... bosom buddies? If in fact anyone would use that term. Nonetheless, I can't imagine why you would believe that the sheriff would share any of his personal concerns with a lowly pawn shop owner."</p><p>Emma has a conversation that leaves her with more questions than answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Badge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowkitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowkitty/gifts).



Emma hesitated for the barest moment at the closed door before reaching out, pushing it open, and stepping inside to the sound of the jangling bell. "Mr. Gold?" she called, fingers falling to the sheriff's badge hanging on her belt. She rubbed across the star; its ridges -- not far different from the deputy's star she'd worn 'til just the night before -- were still unfamiliar.

A curtain rustled at the back of the store as Mr. Gold stepped through it. "Ah, Ms. Swan," he greeted, smiling at her; it still creeped her out, that smile. His eyes dipped, briefly, to her hip. "I hear that congratulations are in order."

"Congratulations?" Emma, skeptical, glanced around the store. Nothing out of place. "Funny thing. Most people are offering their condolences, instead."

Mr. Gold walked through the over-filled store with practiced ease, dodging around pawned possessions as he approached Emma. "Ah-- I hadn't realised that you and the late sheriff were quite so close," he admitted. "Especially given his long and... ill-advised affair with our lady mayor."

Emma caught herself short. "You knew-- What am I saying?" she finished, narrowly resisting the urge to smack herself on the forehead. "Of course you knew. You're probably the reason they got together in the first place."

"I have no idea what you mean!" Mr. Gold insisted. "Now, surely you didn't come all this way just to discuss Ms. Mills' relationship with our dearly departed Sheriff Graham. What can I do for you today, Ms. Swan?"

"I was wondering..." Emma hesitated; on the one hand, Gold did seem to know everything that happens in Storybrooke -- but that didn't exactly lead her to trusting him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Mr. Gold nodded slowly, his eerie smile never slipping. "Yes, Ms. Swan? Wondering what?"

Emma wrinkled her nose. "I was wondering if you knew anything about Sheriff Graham's medical history. Something that might explain why he went into sudden and unexpected cardiac arrest."

A long moment of silence stretched between them; Mr. Gold's smile slipped, just a little, just briefly -- but long enough for Emma to catch it. "Now why do you think I'd know anything about that?" he asked. "Sheriff Graham and I were not what one would call... bosom buddies? If in fact anyone would use that term. Nonetheless, I can't imagine why you would believe that the sheriff would share any of his personal concerns with a lowly pawn shop owner."

"That wasn't a no, Mr. Gold." Emma shoved her hands in her back pockets; she was still running her fingers across the badge without thinking about it, and didn't want to seem fidgety. "And I don't think I asked if he told you anything. I asked if you knew anything. That's not exactly the same thing."

Gold's smile faltered again, and for a moment longer than before. "No, I suppose it's not. To answer your question, then, no, Ms. Swan. I was not privy to any details of Sheriff Graham's medical history that would pertain to his sudden and lamentable heart attack. You might try asking Dr. Whale? As I recall, the sheriff did once mention that he was seeing the doctor for some variety of malady."

"I can't speak about Dr. Whale's involvement in the case," Emma admitted. There was something off about his answer, she thought; he wasn't lying, not that she could tell, at least, but something didn't feel quite right. "Although there are plans for an official autopsy."

"Then I look forward to hearing the results!" Mr. Gold gestured to the door. "If there's nothing else I can do for you today, Ms. Swan?"

Emma shook her head. "No, that's all I wanted to-" She cut herself off, her thoughts spinning over what Gold had said. "What about the rest of his history? Graham's, I mean."

"... What?"

"You said you don't know anything about his medical history," Emma pointed out, "but that doesn't mean you don't know anything else about him. You know everything that goes on in this town, Mr. Gold. You probably know more than Regina does. You're telling me that you don't know anything that might have caused Graham's heart attack?"

The suddenness with which Mr. Gold's smile disappeared, replaced with a menacing stare, shocked Emma. Her hand slipped out of her pocket, grabbing her badge outright and clutching it tightly -- as if it could protect her. "If I knew anything, Ms. Swan," Mr. Gold spat out, "don't you believe that I would tell you? What possible reason could I have for withholding information in an investigation?"

"I don't know," Emma admitted, "but then, I don't know why you do half the things you do. Do I need to make a deal with you? Is that what you want? Something in return for helping me find out what killed one of the _only_ friends I had in this town?" She stepped forward, leaning directly into Gold's space. She could swear that she felt her badge getting warm, warmer than she could explain just by the heat from her hand. "Because I don't owe favors, Mr. Gold. If you want something from me, you're going to have to tell me what it is up front."

Gold's hand shot out and grabbed Emma's arm, just above the wrist. "You don't have _anything_ I want, Ms. Swan," he hissed. The badge in her hand was getting even warmer. "Now, I suggest you leave before one of us does something we'll both regret."

Calmly, Emma reached across with her free hand and gripped Mr. Gold's wrist in a painful hold. She pulled his hand, finger by finger, away from her arm. "What makes you think," she asked, making a show of lifting his hand, his face twisting in pain from her hold, and letting it drop, "that I'll regret any of it?" She stepped back, forced herself to let go of the badge. "If you think of anything, Mr. Gold, you know where to find me."

"Yes, Ms. Swan. I suppose I do." As she turned on her heel and moves towards the door, Mr. Gold's voice stops her, though she doesn't turn around. "And do get that hand looked at? That looks like a nasty burn."

Later, Emma prides herself on the fact that she didn't look at her hand until she'd left the store. Seared into her palm, already blistering, was the imprint of her badge.


End file.
